


Under Your Skin

by sonicsora



Category: Brütal Legend
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Horror, Multi, Psychological Horror, Violence, stolen body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 07:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18331814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonicsora/pseuds/sonicsora
Summary: Ophelia's lust for revenge falls away to merely wanting to end Eddie Riggs life as quickly as possible. She pushes Eddie away from the sea, from their original plan. She veers from torturing Eddie slowly to simply wanting him deadnow.Neither of her partners know when this change happened but find it hard not to notice now.A one-shot based off of 'Drowning In You, Drowning In Us' universe.





	Under Your Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [callmedok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmedok/gifts).



> https://archiveofourown.org/works/17104319 check the main canon universe here! this lil aside is non-canon but kinda punched me in the face and had to be written. 
> 
> also hey this fic is a ride, _enjoy_
> 
> Crossposted to my DA page.

There is a subtle shift between cockiness and jeering in her responses to Riggs to something cold and brittle. Crowley is the first to really notice as she doesn’t bother to taunt Eddie as she attacks him. She’s merely trying to rip him apart, ignoring Riggs’ obvious attempts to egg her on. She’s out to simply kill him, not string things along, not make him suffer. She wants to cut him to pieces with each blow and doesn’t hold back. 

Crowley isn’t sure when it shifted, when it changed, but once he notices it, he finds it hard not to _wonder_ about it. Hard not to see the tension radiating through her when Riggs was nearby. He tells Lem casually, who seems just as surprised. Both men aren’t sure what caused it, aren’t quite able to not pick up on it after noticing. 

Pick up on the way Ophelia has aggressively changes tactics to keep Riggs away from the sea, keep him at bay opposed to draw him to death in its waters. There is a frantic edge to the way she protects everyone in her faction. A way she’ll aggressively keep Riggs away from them like it’ll be her last deed on this earth. 

They gain ground against Ironheade, pushing them back towards the jungles they came from. She fights like she’s dying, like every breath is her last, a panicky edge when Riggs draws too near. She’s only outwardly angry when Riggs even looks at Crowley or Lem, like her hackles have risen and will not settle until there is distance. Ophelia is a panther protecting its family, an animal throwing itself against danger to protect its loved ones. 

When they finally ask, the answer they get isn’t particularly settling. 

Her words a low and careful when they’re alone, there is no bitterness or hurt, just something chilly that would leave even the doom cold to their core. “There is something disgusting under that skin. There is no man there.” 

Neither man quite know what to say to that, nor have the time as alarm carries through the air of Ironheade’s approach. Ophelia’s gaze snaps to their tent flap, any sense of relaxation dropping out of her entirely. She whips around to drag them both into a kiss before disappearing. 

Her words hang heavily over them as the stage is built, as battle wages in the humid air of the jungles. As Ironheade’s weakened forces try to push them back. It would be a laughably easy battle if not for the creeping discomfort that bites at Crowley, that bites at Lem in a way neither know how to articulate. 

Ophelia and Eddie circle each other like predators ready to strike. He comes at her first, his motions are jerky and unsteady in way that makes Crowley’s stomach drop. Ophelia evades him, but rakes her claws in passing across his face. 

He rears back with an angry shriek that doesn’t _sound_ like Riggs. Crowley’s grasp tightens on his axe as he moves to join his wife. Ophelia nods at him in a wordless acknowledgment, and unsheathes her claws further, drawing upon more of the sea than she ever has. 

Ophelia stays protectively close to him, the two attack Eddie battering him back best they can. Eddie is hurt enough he’s staggering, but keeps coming after them, throwing barbs and jokes that are met with silence. 

Crowley only finds frustration in the way Ophelia keeps taking blows _for_ him, refusing to let Crowley be struck. She’s bleeding heavily but doesn’t stop taking blows meant for him, her expression calm and sharp in a way that even makes him worried. 

“What, too chicken shit to take a blow yourself?” Eddie asks of Crowley, the taunt quick and easy on his lips. “Gotta rely on her? Some man you are.” 

“Stop wearing his skin.” Ophelia whispers, her words feel like a chill settling over Crowley. His gaze snaps to her for a moment as she radiates something dangerous and dark. “Stop it.” 

Eddie pauses, expression going blank before he smiles. The expression too cheery and bright. Just too curled, just too tightly woven on his face. 

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want with this skin, little girl.” The voice is decidedly _not_ Riggs and that makes Crowley’s grasp on his axe tighten. 

“Then, I’ll have to peel you out of it.” She launches forward faster than Riggs expects, her claws grabbing at the front of it yanking with enough force the man can’t shake her off. The skin comes off with a wet sound. 

His feet move before his mind does, Crowley darts forward, grabbing Riggs as well, to hold the thrashing man still. He will always support his wife, his queen. He keeps Ironheade at bay as they realize what is happening and sounds of horror ripple across the battlefield.

Ophelia holds the man’s skin in her grasp, pulling off his face like its merely a mask and throwing it aside with a sharp brittle laugh that hurts to hear. She steps back, pointing at the man to draw as much attention as she can to Riggs. 

“Who the fuck are you!?” She all but screams at the man, her voice carrying through the air. “You aren’t Eddie Riggs!” 

What stares back at them is not Eddie, its something Crowley can’t describe beyond desperately wanting to look _away_. It gnashes rows upon rows of teeth, too many eyes on every bit of flesh whip around in an unnatural way. There is too much and too little he can piece together to even make a face. Ironheade recoils, as do the Doom. Everyone who sees _it_ panic and make as much space as they can.

“You bitch!” It yells in a voice that isn’t Eddie’s. That is all Crowley needs to know as he swings his axe at it’s face. Ophelia rears forward dragging her claws against it. The thing wriggles out of Eddie’s skin, out of his clothes, undulating in strange ways as it tries to attack them. It twists and turns over itself, unstable without Eddie’s shape to contain it. It bubbles and oozes a noxious smell that cuts through the scent of the jungle. 

The strangest thing is having Lita join them, the blonde rattling with so much anger Crowley can practically taste it in the air. 

“Litaaaa, _w_ **H** y w **O** ul **D** you attack m **E**!? We’ **RE** Fri **E** nds!” It calls out in a mimicry of Eddie’s voice, but it warbles so strangely and brokenly it doesn’t deter the blonde. Her halberd hungers for blood and comes down upon flesh with enough force to make this thing bleed on the grass underfoot. 

Any other time, Crowley would laugh at the idea of Ironheade and The Doom joining forces, yet, at the creature trying to play at Eddie both armies descend like carrion crows to pick at a corpse. The good humor and joy of battle drains for something no one quite expected. 

The need to destroy, the need to kill. They are a mass of bodies coming together all attacking in near angry silence. Beyond grunts, cries and heavy breathing they are singularly focused on killing. Even as the thing tries to call out in Eddie’s voice, none of them can speak, none of them want to.  

It dies,

screaming, 

_screaming_ ,

 _ **screaming**_ ,

Screaming in such a way it makes his ears ring and his breath catch in the back of his throat. Even as the scream staggers everyone else, Ophelia wails on the _thing_ until it is putty under her fists. She shrieks tumultuously over this things screams, like a wave of the sea, turbulent crashing down on everything, leaving destruction in its wake. 

Even when _it_ is silent Ophelia screams, head thrown back keening like a dying animal until she sinks into herself cradling her face in her hands. She shivers, breathing heavily as she hunches into herself.

The silence that follows feels almost deafening. It is Lem who steps forward hand settle on Ophelia’s shoulder. He helps her stand, Crowley sidles next to them protectively. Ophelia’s voice is raw and ragged as she speaks, “This war is over. Don’t come near my sea, near my people. None of you.” 

She turns and they move with her, the doom move on her command. Ironheade lingers but does not follow, they are left in the silence that hangs. Only once they’re back stage does Ophelia sag into both her husbands gratefully, breathing heavily as she clings. 

There are questions, many question to be had, but all Crowley cares about now is her. All Lem cares about now is her.


End file.
